Paper Thin Walls
by Evie.Calyx
Summary: Ruth and Harry are in Baghdad. Alone together undertaking a dangerous mission in a foreign country, Ruth finds herself drawn further into intimacy with Harry. When she wakes in the middle of the night to hear him screaming, her decision to comfort him changes everything between them.
1. Chapter 1

Ruth awoke because of the shouting.

She stumbled out of bed, dazed. The walls between her and Harry's hotel rooms were paper thin, and she could hear his shouting.

The air was muggy, oppressive. It made her feel like she was moving through fog. Her hands shook as she slid open the bedside table draw, grasped the gun Harry had given her, just in case. Undid the safety. Grabbed the key to their shared connecting door.

Who was in his room? Were they hurting him? Going to kill him?

More shouting. Harry's voice, again.

This was Baghdad. Not their usual remit. But there had been intelligence. Someone in the highest reaches of Six was corrupt. Maybe working with corrupt elements in the CIA, too. There was a plot to smuggle weapons grade uranium into Baghdad, to be discovered, to justify the war. So it was just her and Harry, pretending to be assisting, offering their expertise, with the British security operation, all the while actually gathering evidence on Six. Had someone discovered them, before she and Harry could unravel this plot together?

Quietly, quietly. Ruth slid the key in the lock, held up the gun, swung the door open.

Instead she saw Harry, half-naked and twisted in the bed sheets, in the middle of a nightmare.

"Mmm, no, don't," Harry murmured, no longer shouting his distress at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, Harry," Ruth said, "Harry, wakeup… it's oh, it's a nightmare."

"No," Harry rejoindered from his sleep.

Hands still shaking, Ruth crossed the room, rested the gun on his bedside table. Outside, the moon was high. A cold desert wind blew in from the metal barred window, and cooled her sweat-soaked skin. Her deep blue nightshirt still clung to her, and, suddenly aware of her nakedness, Ruth felt awkward.

But she should wake him up. Ruth tried to pat Harry's shoulders awkwardly.

"Bill, Bill, Bill," Harry moaned, like a tortured animal.

"Harry," Ruth continued, shaking a little harder. "Wake-oof!"

Harry had woken suddenly, grabbed both her arms excruciatingly hard and thrown her to the bed beneath him, knocking the wind out of her.

He was on top of her. She struggled; he held her down. Pinned her arms above her head. Pressed his bulky weight into her.

"It's me! It's Ruth!" she squeaked.

"Christ, Ruth!" Harry swore, "What the hell are you doing?"

Adrenaline was still pumping through Harry from his nightmare, and then what he assumed was a fight. He failed to release his grip on her, but finally meets her wide, frightened eyes in the moonlight.

"Ruth?" he demanded angrily.

"I-I I heard,,, and then.."

"You heard what?"

"You were having a nightmare," Ruth rushed out, "You were screaming, Harry… God, I thought there was someone in your room, that they had gotten to you. I got the gun, I was going to…!"

"Oh," breathed Harry, releasing her arms, but still pressing her into the mattress with the bulk of his large body.

From beneath him still, but calmer now, Ruth stopped and really looked at Harry's face. There were tears in his eyes, tear tracks wetting his cheeks.

"Oh, Harry, you're crying…" she said compassionately.

"No, I'm not," Harry grunted.

"What were you dreaming about?" Ruth questioned earnestly.

"Just… the bodies today. Burnt. Brought back memories," Harry stuttered out brokenly, so unlike his usual commanding self, and more like, well, her, awkward and nervous Ruth.

She recalls the scene from early today, though. They had driven through the streets of Baghdad to meet an informer. Someone who apparently had dealt with someone from the Security Services, who new something about the plot. But they were too late; instead all they had found were two bodies, charred and burnt. The smell of gasoline.

"It was…" Ruth agreed. "What memories?"

"…Bill," Harry moaned, and pressed his face into her neck.

Ruth lay there holding him, as she felt great, wracking sobs shake Harry's body. His cool tears pressed into her neck.

"Oh, Harry, I'm here for you Harry," Ruth soothed.

Ruth ran her hands across his broad shoulders, down thickly muscled arms, and up again to his back, where she began rubbing comforting circles.

"Shhh, Harry."

Up now to his thick neck, massaging him, feeling the roll of fat, and the soft downy hair that she loved. As shocked as she was to see him go to pieces in her arms… oh, the pleasure that suffused her, at being the one to hold this great man as he went to pieces.

When his sobs subsided, she ventured to ask who Bill was.

"He was your fellow officer in Ireland, wasn't he?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. Undercover. 1978," he mumbled, face still pressed into her shoulder.

"God, I was eight then," Ruth joked.

"I was twenty-five. Just finished training. Jane had had Catherine. Bill had been the best man at our wedding. We met in the army, applied for Five together."

"What happened over there?"

Harry was quiet for a few seconds.

"I fucked up. He was… captured. Tortured. With a blowtorch. I identified the body."

"And seeing those poor men today brought it all back."

Harry shrugged. "I dream about it sometimes, anyway."

"Oh, my poor Harry," Ruth breathed, kissing his crown.

Who is there to comfort you, usually? Ruth's heard about his women. Harry's always spoken about within the service as a ladies man. Ruth's only met one of them, though. She can't quite imagine sharp-tonged Juliet managing it.

Ruth grasped Harry to her breast, held him like a child.

"Ruth. Sweet girl," he choked out.

And that's when she felt him pressing wet kisses into her chest. And then she realised his erection was pushing against her thigh.

"H-H-Harry," Ruth gasped.

She couldn't think. She couldn't think.


	2. Chapter 2

From her chest he kissed up. Sucking her neck, her earlobe, and then across to her cheek, where his lips landed hot and insistent.

Harry's hands then began to travel frantically over her. As he pushed her small frame into the bed with his bulk, his hands fondled her breasts, rubbed her nipples, traced her waist and hips, and then feverishly repeated the process. His heavy panting was only broken by intermittent groans when he discovered something her particularly liked. The groans were low and pleased.

Ruth lay there, letting him take her over. What a pleasure it was to feel the man she had so secretly longed for, wanting her so much he was wild with it. But what fear it caused her, to have him wanting her so suddenly, before she would even have a chance to analyse it.

"Ruth, touch me," Harry commanded, voice slurred with lust.

But Ruth didn't move; just stared at him dumbly.

"Ruth. Here," he breathed, grabbing her small hand and placing it in his boxers, "Feel how hard you make me."

"Oh," she moaned, thighs clenching together as he wrapped her fingers around his length and encouraged her to move up and down.

He felt wonderful. He's thick, very thick, and she imagined him stretching her wonderfully. She can't see it, just feel and… Well, he wasn't exaggerating. He's hard like steel. She pumped him again, then pulled his foreskin back and thumbed the head once, twice, three times. She felt the stickiness on her hand. Then trailed her hand down to cup his balls, giving them both a gentle squeeze as she imagined sucking them lovingly into her mouth.

Ruth looked up to find Harry watching her face hungrily as she enjoyed him. It's dark in the room, but she can make out his expression.

"Fuck, Ruth. Let me have you," he implored, his normally sharp hazel eyes clouded with lust.

"Yes. Of course, Harry," she answered earnestly.

Harry hastily pulled his boxers down, his cock springing proudly out. Ruth reached around to fondle his bottom but he wasn't having it; he was in too much of a hurry.

"Spread your legs," Harry commanded, slapping at her thighs impatiently, where they were still clasped together.

Ruth obliged him feeling nervous about being exposed to his gaze. Harry was staring. Saying nothing. She wanted him badly, too, but he seemed to be taken over with a sort of madness. He was going to be rough in his hurry. This was a bad idea. So when he reached out to test her wetness, Ruth flinched away.

Ruth inhaled deeply; curled up in a ball, away from him, humiliated.

Harry wasn't fazed. He caught her by the waist, dragged her back to him, and leant over her to murmur in her ear.

"What is it, Ruth?"

"I-I'm nervous," she whispered shyly.

"Sshh, sweet Ruth. Trust me," he soothed, stroking her thighs, coaxing her to open them back up again.

Funnily enough, for a man who has always preferred confident, ball-busting women, he found Ruth's nervousness completely charming. She wouldn't be her if she wasn't, after all. It had felt good to be held by her, he thought to himself, with kindness and acceptance.

But no. He didn't want to think about his humiliation earlier; wouldn't have even imagined crying in the arms of most of his previous lovers. Juliet, perhaps, and look where that had got him. Pillow talk then had led to blackmail for the rest of his years.

But Ruth wouldn't take advantage of his weakness. Probably. No, don't think about that now, old man. Let's go, he told himself.

Harry slid back on top of her, and pressed his bare cock into the crook of her leg. He braced himself above her and kissed her passionately to calm her. Distract her. Their first kiss, he realised, as he penetrated her.

"Ohh, Harry," Ruth moaned, breaking their kiss as she felt his wonderfully large cock fill her fully.

"Christ, Ruth," Harry swore roughly into her neck, "Feels good."

Her cunt was a warm and welcoming as her arms had been.

He began to thrust into her, short and sharp.

"Grab my shoulders," he commanded.

Ruth wrapped her arms around his neck and Harry used the extra leverage to thrust deeper into her, setting up a punishing rhythm. He fucks her harder and harder, loving the little squeals she makes, hanging onto him for dear life. He fucks her until he can't think anymore. About the nightmare, about Bill, about his humiliation.

As he got closer, Harry readjusted Ruth's legs, encouraging her to wrap them around his waist, thereby tilting her pelvis up so his pelvis brushes against her clit as he thrusts.

The contact made her eyes roll back.

"Now… lock your legs around your ankles," Harry panted.

"Fuck, fuck," he shouted as she did so, feeling her lovely warmth squeeze him even tighter.

"You feel so thick this way," Ruth answered, the delirious pleasure of him lowering her usual nervous inhibitions. He's good. He's so good at this. Of course he is, like his reputation always said he'd be. Like her imagination always told her he'd be.

"And you're so bloody tight," Harry grunted coarsely, the language of his army days taking over. "Want to come so bad."

"Yes, yes Harry. Want to feel it, too."

For Ruth, the language was a turn on. She loves the coarse, powerful, ruthless Harry as much as she loves the gentle Harry who sobs in her arms for his dead friend.

"But you first," Harry smirked, shifting his weight only one elbow so he can massage her clit with the other hand.

It's too much for Ruth; she lets go. It feels wonderful.

"You look beautiful when you come," Harry told her, still thrusting inside her as he searched for his own release.

"Oh, Harry," Ruth is touched.

No one has ever told her that before. And coming from Harry, it makes her indescribably happy.

She peppered his face with kisses. Bit his pouty bottom lip. Wrapped her arms around him again.

Harry pressed his face into her neck and came inside her with a hoarse groan. After he finished, he collapsed his full weight onto her briefly, before shifting onto his back and pulling her to rest on top of him.

Ruth was sprawled over his chest, her head resting into the crook of his neck.

"Mmm, that was amazing," she murmured, stretching languidly.

"Mmm," Harry agreed merrily.

Ruth felt him lazily wrap his hand around her waist, at first stroking absent mindfully, and then with more purpose, as he reached down to fondle her bottom. He cheekily gave her a little pinch, which made Ruth burst out in giggles. She tried swatting his hand away, and failed. Harry started chuckling, too. Ruth looked up; saw a tired, content smile on his face; felt near to burst with happiness.

The cool desert wind blew in through the window. They fell into sleep wrapped around each other.


End file.
